You'll Never Know
by TheSilentPen
Summary: "I can't lose you now, Mom." Quinn Fabray struggles to hide her relationship with her 'friend' Rachel Berry from her Mother. Closeted-Faberry.


**Disclaimer: **I don't own Glee or any of its characters :)

**A/N:** My friend struggled with her sexuality for a _long_ time. I was the _first_ person she ever came out to. She used to tell me all her fears and insecurities. She hides her sexuality from her mother-a woman she's always tried so hard to please because she wants her Mom to be proud of her for once in her life-by acting like a straight person. Her first girlfriend was a hidden one that she would invite over for 'study.' Those were the only moments they could be together.

She asked me to write her story, so I did. This is it done in Faberry style, from Quinn's POV.

Review, if you could, please? I would love to know what you thought.

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><p><strong>You'll Never Know<strong>

TheSilentPen

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><p>"<em>It's alright, Quinnie… Someday… Someday, you'll find the perfect <strong>man<strong> for you_."

'The _perfect_ man,' she says.

…The perfect _man_.

I bite back a dry, sobbing chuckle as the tears prickle unpleasantly at the corners of my eyes.

Irony's a _cruel_ bitch.

_Someday_, she told me.

She doesn't know that 'someday' happened a year ago. I don't have to wait for 'someday' to arrive.

…I've already found the perfect _woman_ to complete my life **someday**.

I draw my knees up to my chest. Salty water drips slowly down my cheeks, forming perfect pearls of moisture on the white, silken surface of my bedspread.

It's not a _great_ feeling… having to lie this way to my mother.

Not being able to deliver on the one thing that I _shouldn't_ have been able to screw up on.

I'm supposed to be the golden daughter. The perfect, blonde, All-American Cheerleader with a do-nothing future. A mother of six perfect children. A homemaker wed to a God-fearing, righteous man of my Father's church.

I'm supposed to atone for my sins. For getting pregnant, for staining the Fabray family name crimson with the blood of my lost virginity, to take the tarnished silvery brilliance of our once good standing in town and restore it to its former luster.

I'm supposed to be _many_ things.

My mother sacrificed her marriage, her comfortable lifestyle, the man she loved so that I could have a chance for a successful future. She brought me into her life, back where I wanted most to be. She stopped drinking herself blind with bottle upon bottle of cheap liquor to form a bond with me.

And I'm throwing it right back in her face, my secret... my _shame_ tucked right under her nose.

My eyes flicker over to the right side of my bed, where my 'shame' rests silently.

Brown, wavy locks lay splayed in a shining halo about the softness of a pillow. Soulful, chocolate eyes are lost from the world, shielded by dark, tanned lids and a fringe of dark, long lashes. An exotically chiseled face with a unique, lovely nose rests, unmarred by marks of worry.

I reach out, running a gentle hand against the cheek of the sleeping angel with soft eyes.

How can something so wonderful, so right…

How can it be so _wrong_?

I've struggled. I've kicked, scratched, and clawed my way out of her arms too many times to count.

But she's bore it with a smile and her love. She kissed away my barriers and coaxed me out into the dim light.

She showed me how _beautiful_ love could be. How special. How _treasured_.

Yet she is my _shame_. She is the reason why I can never dream of fulfilling my mother's envisioned future.

Because she is the _only_ person I would ever _dream_ of spending the rest of my life with.

I've tried **so many** times to tell my Mother. Tried to pray that she would accept us. Accept _me_, accept my feelings…

Accept the reality that _my_ love is just as real and as valid as anyone's. Accept the fact that God loves me, no matter what disfavor those of our church will show us.

Accept _me_.

The secret that I carry around with me weighs heavily on my heart. It kisses me on the lips sweetly. It makes me happier than I've ever felt before.

…It makes me _afraid_.

Who knows?

Who doesn't?

Am I too obvious?

If someone knows, will they tell my Mother?

Does my Mother know?

If my mom knows, will she be mad?

_Will she make me leave again?_

I try and try to tell her.

But the carefully rehearsed words lock in my throat. They burn and try to force their way up in a bout of sickness. They claw at my innards and beg to be let out.

But I cannot say them. They remain stagnant. Lost.

Because my mind always flickers back to those moments when you, Mother, cheered as Proposition 8 passed. While you _cursed_ as Gay Marriage in New York was legalized.

While you glare hatefully at the protestors on the streets, turn your nose upon them, and murmur prayers and damnations against them.

And the words stall on my tongue. Because all I can see is you staring reproachfully at me, giving me the same looks, wrenching me from my life, from my girlfriend…

I can see you treat me like some sort of _disease_. Some sort of pestilence.

So I bring her here under the guise of friendship. I _lie_ to you so I can lay in bed with her and pretend to be normal. Pretend that you approve of her. Pretend that you invited her into the house and that I might still be allowed to stay here because _you_'re letting me.

You don't know what _Rachel_ is to me.

You think she's a friend. A Jew.

The girl with 'two gay dads' that I am trying to save from damnation.

But Rachel is so much _more_ than you could ever comprehend.

She's my world. My heart. The only _good_ thing in my life. The only _perfect_ thing in my life.

Do you _know_ how hard it is to do something, _perfectly_, Mom?

Do you know how long I've tried to get it right?

Whenever Rachel's in my arms, I _feel_ like all the pieces are in place.

I feel like God loves me.

Because he sent her here to love me. He _gave_ her to me to love. To make me feel right about myself again. To awaken me from my stupor.

…But you can't understand.

So I'll continue to smile at you. To lie. To sneak her through our door as "my friend from Glee Club."

And I'll continue to come up to my room with her and lay here with her in my arms, pretending that you approve.

I don't know when I'll ever tell you.

I don't know _if_ I ever can.

...But I _can't_ right now.

I can't lose you, Mom. Not now

…I won't.


End file.
